Date: Wed, 19 Dec 2001 10:42:08 -0600 From: james smith Subject: Ronnie Series Chapter 4 Ronnie (Chapter 4) Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction depicting teenage males in romantic and/or sexual positions and activity. The people depicted in this story may or may not really exist (many characters may have distant ties to the memories of my past). The places and historical social events are most likely true, but you may not always be able to associate both to the same place and time. If you are under 18 years of age (or whatever the legal age I your area is) you must leave. If you find this material offensive, you should not be reading this story. If you choose to continue . . . you have been warned, and I trust you to make your own wise choices. I welcome any comments . . . any of them. I will do my best to answer any email, but please be patient with me if I do not get to you right away - I will respond. The purpose of my writing is to express what has been held for so long without a voice. Hopefully these ramblings will help someone who may be struggling with similar feelings and experiences. Please feel free to contact me at boyzheart@hotmail.com with any comments or suggestions. Chapter 4 "Ronnie," I whispered, "you didn't ruin anything - it's just beginning." His tears started over again, and his small frame once again began sobbing. I couldn't help but smile through my own tears as I kissed his hair and ear, knowing this time the tears were tears of relief. I could feel him relax into my body and snuggle closer with each outward breath. Sometime the crying stopped and we drifted off to sleep. He pressed against me, my arms around him, my left hand caressing his lower abdomen and my right tightly holding his left pectoral. My lips were on his neck right where it transitioned into his shoulder - in sort of an extended kiss. I saw the poster over the bed and drifted off with the thought, "Do you believe?" Yes, I thought to my self . . . I believe . . . and . . . thank you God for not being mad at me, I'm sorry for ever doubting . . . . . . . I woke with a start. Disoriented for a moment I couldn't remember where I was, or why I was there. His smell was the first thing that calmed me. Then his weight on my arm and warmth pressed against my chest - I was lying in HIS bed, with HIM in my arms. I wasn't sure how long we had slept, but my arm was numb. I had never had anyone sleep in my arms like this before. I wondered if this was what lovers felt like after waking from a night of embracing. If so, it was no wonder in my mind why there are so many married couples and lovers in the world. I could definitely get into this sleeping together thing - definitely. However pleasing the thought was of waking with him in my arms, I desperately had to pee and move my arm. Ronnie's breathing remained steady and peaceful as I gently extricated myself from underneath him. I watched him sleeping for a few minutes before sliding off the bed. I was struck with how beautiful he really is, and how innocent. He is definitely still a boy - not yet showing the features of manhood. I wanted to reach out and caress his soft boyish face, but decided that would wake him and I wanted to have my full attention on him when he awoke. I sat up on the edge of the bed and looked around his room to gain my orientation. Never having been in his house, much less his room before, I didn't want to jump right up and crash out on the floor for the third time in a single day. (I thought all that clumsy stuff was over for me at this age. Just one more reason not to trust everything you read I mused to myself.) Slowly I made my way across the room in search for the bathroom. I had to check three different doors to find the relief zone. The other three were what appeared at first glance to be his parent's room and a sewing room. (Mental note: check out last doors before going back to Ronnie.) I went into the common bathroom of the upstairs area and quickly began relieving myself. I saw the same neat, organized appearance as Ronnie's room - must be his bathroom. I saw herbal shampoo on the shelf in the shower (shower curtain was pulled back) and immediately recognized this as one element of the lingering fragrance in my nose from an afternoon with Ronnie in my arms. (Do married couples experience this too - lingering smells of their lover after leaving their embrace.) My circumcised cock was swelling in my hand at the thought of Ronnie's smell - a new phenomena for me. Arousal by scent. (I wondered if this is normal, but figured it must be or else why would people spend so much money on how they smell?). I shook my self off and replaced my friend back in his cloth containment field and decided I had better get back before Ronnie woke. Besides, I definitely did not want to have to explain a fresh blob of semen splattered on the fixtures should I get caught bringing myself even greater release than that god-sent piss relief. Glancing both ways down the hallway, and deciding the coast was clear, I ventured out of the bathroom into the hallway. I don't know why I felt I had to be sneaky - I guess it was just the combination of my youth and the fact that I was curious enough about the other rooms that I was really going to sneak a peek. I suppose there is something of a thrill in being someplace uninvited and exploring for some secret yet untold. It occurred to me, as I found a simple closet behind door number one (neatly arranged by-the-way), that Mike brought us here from school. He was going to bring us a soda (I should only be drinking water during the season), and I was suddenly thirsty. Turning the knob on door number two, I found a matching hall closet to the one just slightly opposite on the other wall. (strange, I thought - but dismissed the why's of two identical hall closets as just more meaningless clutter in an overextended brain - good grief, why cant I just stay focused for once!). Just one more door - door number three; Most likely just another clean, neat bedroom. (I wonder if there are any other family members around? Ronnie never had talked about his family much, not that he had every really TALKED to me before. I mean, we knew each other, I certainly watched him and fantasized about him, but we weren't close . . . no . . .not close at all.) As I looked around the door I was confused. This room was diametrically opposite to the entire house. Until this moment, everything in this house was controlled by neat freaks (obviously more than one - most likely a whole heard). Here there was chaos and confusion, clothes strewn haphazardly over the floor and across furniture. There was what looked to be at least a weeks worth of laundry (smelled dirty) stuffed under the unmade bed. Sudden panic. Someone was on the bed. Someone familiar . . . someone who looked all the world like my brother . . . no fuckin way that's Mike . . . asleep on this strange bed . . . in a room down the hall from Ronnie . . . how the hell did Mike know were Ronnie's house was this afternoon after we skipped school? . . .how in God's name (sorry God) did Mike find Ronnie this morning after he ran away? . . . why did Mike seem so certain that he could find him anyway? . . . what the hell is my brother doing sleeping in a stranger's bed??? "M . Mike?" I whispered. Sure as shitting, the body rolled slightly towards my voice and his eyes opened. Green eyes. Mike's green eyes. Somewhat disoriented at first, but slowly focusing on me, then realization spread across them. In an instant I saw him calculate the scene before him and his mind take control of the situation. Instantly he went from being quizzed to being in the lead role without opening his mouth - he did all this with his eyes (I definitely gotta learn this trick.) "You guys were asleep when I came up," he said. "I left a note and your sodas on the desk. You two make one hell of a good looking couple - have you worked anything out yet?" "How do you do that?" "What?" "You know, work things out in your mind so fast and take charge like it was natural?" "Andy," he said, "I don't have a clue about what you are talking about. You are way too deep for my little shit brain sometimes. I think you float in a world all your own, bud." "You're avoiding the question." "No, you are." I sighed and rubbed my head, this was giving me a headache, "Alright, I give up - what question?" "Have you and Ronnie talked yet?" "No," I said in a distant sounding voice. "He started crying again. I tried to hold him and let him know everything was okay. He thought he had ruined everything this morning when he . . . k. kissed me . . . and . . . well . . . I told him it was okay, kinda . . . I think . . . um . . . and we . . . um . . .just fell asleep . . like that." Not my most brilliant oration to date. "Go to him," Mike said, ignoring my obvious discomfort with talking about this. "He has a lot of things that need to be said . . . and I suspect you do as well. We need to get out of here in a half hour or so. I'll come knock on the door when we gotta go." Mike was right. (Always right). I turned to leave without challenging him, or finding the answers for why he was being so chummy in somebody else's room. (Why is life so complicated? Note to self: Ask Mike -WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON- later.). Entering the room as silently as possible, I expected Ronnie to still be sleeping on his side in the same semi fetal position that I left him. I really hadn't been gone too long and he didn't seem disturbed by my movement. The light was off and the curtains drawn on the window so it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust. When they did, I noticed that he had shifted to lying in the bed in a normal laying in bed position, with his hands behind his head, legs crossed at the ankles, and eyes closed. I wasn't sure, but he did not seem to be asleep, merely had his eyes closed. I took a couple of steps toward the bed when he spoke. "Where'd you go?" His voice was calm, but small - eyes remained closed. "Nature calls." "Oh." "So, are you okay?" ""Touché!" Grinning, I sat down on the bed and pulled my right leg up slightly so my knee and thigh was comfortable, and my right hand ended up supporting my balance and touching his mid-thigh. He still radiated warmth. (I wonder if he is always warm like this, or only if he was in certain moods?). "Seriously," I said as the grin on my face faded into a more appropriate for the moment look. (I felt it but could not describe it). "I think we need to talk . . . about . . . things." "I liked it better when you just held me." He said, all the while not opening his beautiful blue eyes. Taking this as a hint, I pivoted and lay down beside him. He adjusted slightly making room. We automatically joined hands and began gently caressing each others fingers and skin. It felt natural, and exciting all at the same time. "How did you know," I asked him finally. "I didn't." He said neutrally. He sifted positions, rolling on his side facing me with his head propped up by his hand. His eyes were ablaze with energy and passion and nervously moving back and forth, up and down - all over my body and face, almost as if he were memorizing me. "I didn't think. That's the problem. Every time I am anywhere near you and I look into your eyes, I get lost. I can't seem to find my way out. It's almost like I get sucked into some time-continuum thing, or some stupid shit like that" his voice now somewhat philosophical (if you can actually make your voice sound that way - I don't know if that is a good description, but it was what I felt about it). "I'm sorry about the language," he said, "I can't seem to keep my mind and mouth out of trouble these days." "s'kay, I'm kinda having one of those days myself." (Understatement!) "Anyway," he continued, "I'm sorry for frightening you in the locker room. I really just wanted to talk. I had decided you were smart enough to listen to the weather last night and just stayed home. When I got back to the school, Coach was in his Suburban and told me I was the last one out - I was to go get a shower and call my mom to come get me. He was going to stay until she got there, but I made him go - I didn't want him making a fuss over me. I mean, I just got the chance to move up and work out with you guys and I don't want him thinking he has to take care of the little kid. "So, when I heard noises from the locker room, I got scared. I stopped the shower, wrapped a towel around me and snuck around the wall and beside the lockers to see who was there. I was afraid it was Elliot and his gang - they are always banging on my head with their senior rings and shi . .um . . stuff like that. It's always the one that can't, or won't fight back that get it the worst. I stand up to them, but there is always a pack of them - like vermin. I don't think they like the fact that an eighth grader should even get a shot at the team. "When I saw it was you I was so relieved. I let out a huge sigh - I thought you heard me, because you turned around just then. That's when you spazed and started stuttering and stuff." "I did not spaz," I said defensively - overly defensively. "Did too!" He giggled. "Okay, I spazed . . but you scared the shit out of me." More giggles. His laugh was quiet and still had that little kid quality. "Why weren't you afraid of me?" I suddenly needed to know. "You're kidding - right?" He asked incredulously. The blank look on my face prompted him to continue. "Andy . . . I have been watching you for the whole school year, every since we moved here at the end of summer. I know everything about you. You live on Central, 3.5 miles from my front door. You were born on December 2nd; your favorite color is blue, book is The Hobbit, food is banana-pudding, and band is - well I never got close enough to figure that out - yet. I know you play EVERY sport at school, and that you are class president - but don't talk about it. I know your dog's name is Ralph, and I know your brother Mike." I raised my eyebrows at this comment and opened my mouth to ask, but he raised his finger in the classic, "I'm not done here yet" gesture. My mouth snapped closed and I listened for the rest. "I know you have the hottest body I have ever seen. I have wanted to touch you . . . like forever. Your eyes are so full of . . . I don't know how to say it . . . so full of . . .life!" I am beginning to blush about right now. "I knew I wanted to be your friend from the start. You've always been nice to me. I noticed that you are that way with everybody. I liked it - you. But I didn't know how to approach you. I couldn't risk just walking up staring a conversation, 'Hi! I'm Ronnie and I think your hot!' What if you didn't like me back - I couldn't take the risk. So, I watched. "Then, one day when my brother, Nelson, came home with his new Soccer buddy, Mike - I knew there is really a God." Click! Nelson: senior, soccer dude, blue eyes, straight brown hair, 6'-2 or 3", Mike has been palling around with him for a few weeks now. Seems as if he spent the weekend with him just a few weeks ago. OMG! Now I get it - that is why Mike was asleep in the other room and wasn't bothered about it. It also explains why Mike knew where Ronnie lived and how he found Ronnie this morning. (I knew all along there was a perfectly reasonable explanation about all this all along . . . right.) "Nelson and Mike became good friends, and Mike often wanted to bring you along to play two-on-two, but I always managed to find an excuse - homework, going to a friends - I just couldn't risk getting too close. I thought that if I hung around you for very long you would most likely pound the shit out of me for string - or worse." Ronnie paused for a moment. I suppose to let all this soak in. May be he was just nervous about where this was heading. "Wow." I said in a whisper. I wasn't sure how to respond to the confessions of a stalker - or what ever this is he was confessing to. "So, when you saw me in the locker room, did you think I liked you?" "Well, like I said, I have been watching you for a long time. I saw you staring at me a lot when I was playing with some of the other guys. If they asked you to join - you never did - you always watched . . .me." Ronnie said. Oh shit! Was I as transparent as glass? Does the whole school know about me? Why aren't I dead by now. "I would get hard watching you watch me . . . I would have to leave and go blend into the scenery. A guy could get hurt sporting wood on a basketball court. To many half nude boys around to blame it on anything other that what it is - queer." His voice trailed off at this last. "That's why I couldn't join you on the court," I took the lead now, "I knew I couldn't be that close and not be affected. There is no way I could look at you without a shirt and in those baggy shorts, sweat glistening on your body - and not get hard. "By the way, are you always so darkly tanned?" I asked? I figured I may as well put an end to one of my most curious questions while the opportunity presented itself. "Yeah, I am pretty much the same color all year, makes Nelson jealous." He giggled. "Me too." Silence for way too long. Not awkward silence. . .more like electric . . .or what my speech teacher would call a pregnant pause. Our eyes were locked. Both of us searched for meaning and direction from each other . . . direction or . . .permission. I was now on my side and propped on my elbow in mirror image of Ronnie. Our faces leaning ever closer, our breathing more rapid and irregular. Eyes open . . right until our lips met. Then darkness. My head went spinning out of control. The room was spinning. His lips were so soft. (It occurred to me later that this was my first day at kissing someone other than my mom). I felt his tongue on my lips. Probing, wanting to entry. I opened my lips to allow him access. It felt as if out tongues were dueling for supremacy, almost as if were claiming territory or something. My hands were roaming over his body. He was so hot through his clothes. My hand snaked under the waste band of his trousers and grasped his boy-flesh. The only thing separating me from my prize was the thin cotton material of his briefs (I envisioned they were white). I pulled his shirt tail out of his pants and allowed my hands to caress the hot naked flesh of his back and sides. Our kissing was desperate now. We were moaning into each other's mouths. Ronnie pulled my shirt out and somehow managed to un-button it. He slid it over my shoulders and I allowed him to remove it completely. I immediately followed his lead. Our lips never parted, our hands seemed on autopilot, as if they knew exactly where and what to do. Naked from the waist up I rolled on top of him with my arms still encircling him. I lifted up slightly, breaking our kiss. We were both panting. I saw him then - really saw him. Absolute beauty and perfection - not a single blemish, no hair - perfect. Shifting, I reached for his belt and loosened it. My eyes explored his for permission. He nodded his consent. I released the button of his trousers and slid the zipper down. Heat and odor of pent up passion escaped as the pants began to open and yield their treasure. Lifting his hips, I slipped them down his downy legs and he kicked them off. I leaned back in and kissed him more softly this time. Then I moved to his ear and neck. I planted little kisses to his shoulders, and found my way down to his nipple. It was hard and pointing up off his chest. I licked it and he moaned his approval. I gently took it into my mouth and began to sucking, making Ronnie writhe beneath me in pleasure. Ronnie pushed me away. I looked a bit shocked, but he reached up and kissed me passionately on the lips. He then he licked and nibbled on my lower lip. Firmly wrapping his arms around me he rolled us over with him on top. "My turn," he said. I allowed him to remove my pants and he took my CK boxers off with the same motion. While I was kicking them off my feet, he hooked his thumbs in his waistband and slid his briefs off. On instinct, we closed the distance between us on cue. We melted together in a tight body embrace and passionate kiss. With almost synchronized precision we broke the kiss and kissed our way around into a classic 69 position. There it was in front of me - the object of my fantasies for months. I licked the pre-cum from the tip of his penis. The taste forever changed my whole life. This is it . . . this is what I was born to taste - and it belongs to Ronnie . . .no it belongs to me, he gave it to me! I never knew my own cock to be so hard, and I never realized my own member being as hot as this perfect phallus in my hands. I worshipped it like a god (not the real God - more like an idol). I was so engulfed by what was before me that forgot that Ronnie was doing the same to me. Not seeming so enamberd with the romance of the moment, he plunged down full to the hilt on my member. I'm not huge, after all I am just 16, about 6.5 to 7 inches, but I couldn't believe he just swallowed me whole. His mouth was as hot as the rest of him and my dick felt like it was in a moist oven. His tongue was bathing me with saliva, and his lips were wrapped tightly around my shaft. He began slowly bobbing up and down, up and down. Regaining my composure I began mimicking his every move, lick for lick, bobbing, kissing, slurping - I was in absolute heaven (heaven couldn't possibly better than this - -sorry God). Ronnie is about 5.5 inches and circumcised, just like me, but where I had a full bush of pubic hair, he had just a small patch of soft curly pubes. The head of his penis beautifully crowns a perfect cock, straight as an arrow. It pointed slightly upwards toward his belly button. He was on top of me and began slowly plunging his dick into my mouth. I remember thinking that he is fucking my mouth. This turned me on even more - it hat is possible. His balls were bouncing gently on my nose and occasionally my eyes. We kept at it groaning our pleasure and intensity. I saw his balls begin to draw up towards his cock and felt his body begin to tense. Though never in this position before I knew what was about to happen. I wanted it desperately, so I tightened the grip of my lips and increased the suction on his cock - now totally slick with my spit. His grip on my member tightened as he sensed the same pending explosion of my own. Together we had the timing of seasoned lovers and we both were bringing the moment of crescendo to each other at the same precise moment. (I read where others take their time and want things to build slowly - not me - not this time - I wanted him to blast me full of his cum, and I wanted it now!) I could feel it beginning at the base of his cock, the rippling of the hot flesh of his tool as his precious seed began to boil out and up, building steam and power until I felt his head throb and then blast after blast after blast of boy-seed splashed into my hungry mouth. At precisely the moment I felt him begin climax I released my own powerful explosion. There was no counting spasms and volume - we were both drowning in cum and reveling in the sheer orgasmic pleasure of our first mutual orgasm. Absolutely fanfuckingtastic! He collapsed on top of me in a heap. Our breathing was as if we had just run a marathon. I pulled him around to an embrace in my arms. He laid his head on my chest and looked up at me with bliss etched across his face. "Un-be-lievable," he said. We pulled ourselves into a kiss, tasting our own essence in each other mouths. (Odd thing is that I could distinguish me from him, even though this was the first cock I had ever sucked, and certainly the first time I had ever tasted cum. Only occasionally before was I brave enough to taste my own pre-cum.) Ronnie, looked deeply into my eyes, I could see a slight tear welling at the eyelid, but there was passion - deep passion in his gaze. He lowered his head to the soft place between my shoulder and chest and sighed deeply while settling into a full body snuggle. "Nelson should be home soon," he said as he began to drift of to sleep. I wondered where Mike was . . .he should have come and knocked ten minutes ago (I'm glad he didn't interrupt this time) . . . I wonder what's got him occupied . . . I vaguely remember pulling the NBA comforter over us before we both slipped into blissful sleep. That's all for now. Thanks again for taking the time to read, hope you enjoy. boyzheart@hotmail.com -Andy